A father stood motionless staring out the window at the pending sun rise. It was about 5:00am and he couldn’t start his daily work until the dawn shed its light upon his fields.

“What are you looking at,” asked his son.

“Just waiting for the sun to come up so I can see what kind of day it may be. Would you like to wait with me? I’ll make you some hot tea.” The little boy nodded his agreement and his dad made the tea.

Before long the sky started to lighten, a sure sign that the darkness of the night was about to loose its grip. As the sun cracked the horizon, the sky turned a deep shade of red. “Looks like we may have some rain before this day is done,” the dad said as he took a sip of his tea.

“How do you know?”

“There’s an old saying that sailors have,” the father explained to his boy. “It goes like this, ‘Red at night sailor’s delight. Red in the morning sailor take warning.’ So, when we see a red sun rise it means it could rain.”

-----

It was little after lunch when the father came home from tending his fields. What had started as a clear, brilliantly blue sky was now filled with clouds. With each passing moment they grew thicker and more ominous. The father looked out the window with growing concern. He had never seen a daytime sky so dark that he couldn’t tell night from day.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” said the boy as hung on to his father’s leg.

“Me too.”

-----

A throng gathered on the street just outside their house. Some people were weeping while others jeered and threw things at the men laboring to carry his crucifix. The father and his son went outside to get a better look at what was happening. One of the men was bleeding badly, his crimson red blood mixed with his sweat and tears. It dripped from his brow like a leaky pail staining the cobbled street. The father picked up his son and they followed the man.

They came to the hill where three men hung on crosses. Two thieves on either side of the condemned man they followed.

The clouds hung low, heavy with moisture. Not a wisp of a breeze was felt and the silence was utterly deafening.

A lone drop of rain fell from the sky.
“Daddy, was that rain?”

“That wasn’t rain son. The man hanging on that cross is the Son of God. What you felt was God’s own tear. You see, God is crying for His Son.”

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